"Hey, Smooth-Talker. Are you awake?"

Boryslav opened his eyes, a young man wearing an Afghanka and blue beret, Telnyashanka visible through a small V gap beneath his neck. He turned his head, a smile on his face. "No, I am having a nightmare after seeing your ugly face."

Dimitri, a native-born Russian from Moscow, laughed. "Ha! Fuck you!"

The low drone of the Mi-8 could be heard from inside, the Kush mountains of Afghanistan passing below. Boryslav and Dimitri were sat side by side within the helicopter, buckled comfortably... Or as comfortably one would get in an aerial troop carrier.

Dimitri laid back in his seat, wearing an identical uniform to Boryslav. "Man, I tell you, seeing these mountains constantly just makes me sick. I wish they put us in the desert."

"A desert?" Boryslav asked, "Any other soldier would survive, you on the other hand... That is pushing it."

Dimitri shook his head, "I'm starting to think we should have called you Shit-Talker."

The rest of the squad of paratroopers laughed, drowning out the noise of the propeller outside. Boryslav smiled, turning his head toward one of the windows.

A poof of smoke popped up in the distance.

He raised an eye in confusion before both widened, a small black homing dot growing bigger and bigger.

He turned his head back, letting out a yell.

"STINGER!"

The helicopter was hit, the feeling of freefalling ever-present as the Mi-8 fell to the earth.

Boryslav gasped, flinching from the position he slept in. He blinked before letting out a grunt.

God, he hated those types of dreams. Dreams like that were the reason why he had a secret emergency strap on his backpack. He rose up from his bed, still holding a silenced M1911 by his side before hearing a knock on the door to his room.

"Come in." Boryslav simply said, hiding the pistol beneath the covers.

Olga entered, the brunette girl stuttering in his presence.

"B-Breakfast is ready."

Boryslav nodded, "Ah, спасибі. I'll be down in just a moment."

The young girl nodded, closing the door as Boryslav pushed himself off the bed, putting away the pistol with the rest of his pack before walking out of the room.

Taro was cooking something, something good as the smell wafted from the kitchen and into the dining room. By the time he had reached down the stairs, the old man was bringing a piping hot pan from the kitchen.

Orla was already sitting at the table, her eyes wide as she stared at Taro. "Wow, grandfather Taro, you look so... young."

"Eh,-" Taro shrugged, smiling as he deposited the contents of the pan onto his daughter's plate. "-I always looked like this. Now eat up, my Eternal Blossom."

And she did just that, a relieved and happy smile on her face.

Taro turned to Borsylav. "Mornin'. I thought you military types always wake up early."

Borsylav chuckled, sitting down. "Not this one."

The old man scraped a fraction of the delicious morning stew onto Boryslav's plate, the Ukranian inspecting it. It seemed to be a mixture of mushroom and meat, with a few signs of scrambled egg mixed in. "Cпасибі." Boryslav thanked before eating a mouthful. His eyes blinked, the taste of the meat savory and the mushrooms somehow adding a tangy taste to the meal, and the eggs...

His eyes widened, "This is delicious. What is this?"

"Some local meat I bought at the market, but the mushrooms came from the first layer, as well as the eggs from Hammerbeak nests. I mixed it all within a broth and let it cook for a few hours." Taro then produced a loaf of bread from a side table, unwrapping it before cutting a piece off, handing it to Boryslav. "It goes well with some bread."

Boryslav paused for a moment, "Wait... do you know where this bread comes from?"

Taro raised an eye, "From the nearby mill? What's with that funny question?"

"It is just-" The Stalker recalled for a moment.

An image of himself popped into his head, sitting next to a campfire with a bunch of other Stalkers as he asked one of the biggest mysteries of The Zone.

"Where does this bread come from?"

He had remembered the apathetic shrugs they had given him.

"Nothing." Boryslav then hesitantly took the piece.

Taro gave him a weird look before turning toward his granddaughter as he handed her a piece of bread, "Orla, this is Worn. He'll be staying here."

"R-Really?" Orla asked, a hint of excitement in her voice. "F-For how long?"

"As long as he needs to." Taro simply answered.

Orla turned her head, "I-It's nice to meet you Worn! I-I'm sorry I-I didn't introduce myself before b-but-"

"Breathe, Little One." Boryslav interrupted with a hint of amusement. "It is good to meet you too, Orla."

She gave a cut nod before her eyes widened, almost as if she had just remembered something. "Oh! I'm still in my nightwear!" She then jumped off the chair, "S-Sorry! I'll come back as soon as I'm changed!" before quickly running upstairs.

Taro chuckled, looking toward the staircase. "That's my granddaughter alright... just as squeamish my daughter in law."

Borsylav nodded in agreement before Taro turned his head.

"So, Worn, any plans for today?"

"..." Boryslav looked up from his food, "A few. I need to find a job."

"Huh, a job?" Taro scratched his beard, "That... might be difficult."

Boryslav raised an eye, "How so?"

"Well, if there's one thing I know about my fellow countrymen, it's that they're extremely distrustful of outsiders."

"You trusted me." Boryslav responded.

"After you gained it..." Taro stared at the Stalker, "For other's, saving them from an alleyway mugging isn't going to conveniently arise."

Boryslav paused, deep in thought about his own predicament as Taro spoke up again.

"Speaking of which, where exactly are you from, Worn?"

The Stalker looked at the old man. "If I told you. You wouldn't believe me."

Taro narrowed his eyes, "Try me."

So he told the old man everything, at least what he had told the red whistles from yesterday. His country, Ukraine, which didn't exist in this 'world'. Boryslav had noticed glint's of curiosity twinkle within the Taro's eyes, but the old man did not even blink. After all, hearing what would be the impossible must have been a common occurrence when living next to The Abyss.

"... Amazing." Taro simply said.

Boryslav tilted his head, "So you believe me?"

Taro slowly nodded, "Of course. After what I've seen of you, that explanation does make sense, that and..." The old man nodded off, looking away as if something concerning had came to mind.

"And what?" Boryslav asked.

"No, it's just that... when you were fighting those muggers yesterday... I don't know how to explain it but,-" Taro then turned his head, a distant look in his eyes. "I felt something when you were fighting those muggers last night, like there wasn't anything behind that mask of yours."

A long moment passed, Boryslav simply staring forward as he looked away from the old man. "... You have been spending too much time in that hole old man."

Taro shrugged, "Ah, can't fault me. You kind of remind me of a white whistle, y'know?"

There it was again, white whistles, the supposed elites that Boryslav had heard of. He had only known the true identity of one so far, Riko's mother, Lyza the annihilator. Admittedly, Boryslav's curiosity had grown with every repeated mention of them.

"Okay, I'm dressed!"

The two men looked at the staircase, Orla having returned from her room.

The morning streets of Orth were busy.

Although it wasn't crowded, it still had many busy with their day to day lives. Hawkers yelled out their goods as farmers bought in their wares from the outskirts. Boryslav looked around, wearing his Telnyashka in place of his Stalker suit as Taro and Orla walked alongside him.

"Generally speaking, if you want to find a job, the market is a good place to start." Taro then paused, "Or would be if you were from Orth..."

Boryslav grunted, "Do they really distrust foreigners that much?"

Taro didn't respond, Boryslav quickly realizing something.

People were staring at him.

Whether they were working, walking, or standing, townsfolk close to Boryslav had stopped their tasks and simply watched his every move. Granted, they were not malicious or filled with suspicion, but their stares told Boryslav all he needed to know.

"They can tell I am an outsider."

Taro grabbed him by the arm, giving a friendly wave to a few of the townsfolk to cease their stares before guiding Boryslav away, Orla following in tow. "I think you get the picture."

Boryslav nodded in agreement, "Говно." Boryslav then let out a grunt, "There is also the case of your written language..."

"Orth Rune?" Taro asked, "What about-... Oh, right." The old man stroked his beard, "That definitely complicates things. I can't think of a job that'd hire someone illiterate."

"How about a Delver?" Orla asked.

The two men turned their heads toward the small girl, an innocent look on her face.

"I-I mean, Delvers, even those in Bell rank, get f-free education and benefits. I-I'm sure you'd be taught how to read Orth Rune if you became a legal Delver."

Taro's face seemed deep in pause before his eyes lit up with realization. "You're right! You're absolutely right, my smart eternal blossom!"

Boryslav raised a brow, "But you said people do not trust outsiders like myself, much less would a foreigner become one of your important Delvers."

"And you would be right." Taro admitted, "But here's the thing, I can recommend you."

The Stalker blinked.

"I may have hung up my jacket, but I was still a black whistle." The old man then chuckled, "While they may not allow foreigners to sign up, they never said anything about a foreigner being recommended. As long as you have me putting in a good word, then your admittance should be allowed." Taro then paused, "But the only question now is... do you want to?"

Boryslav took a moment to think, already knowing what Taro was asking. The Abyss, while not like The Zone, came with its own sets of dangers that he already had a taste of beforehand.

Did he really want to put his life in danger again?

Oddly enough, the question he viewed with indifference quickly became favorable by the second. Boryslav, for the life of him, could not even begin to see himself doing a normal 'civilian' job. He quickly deduced that he would merely grow bored, or dissatisfied, performing tedious tasks for profit.

Try as he might, the violence of The Zone had changed him. Or perhaps not changed but...

Created what he was today.

And thus, his answer was born.

"Where do I sign up?"

The Delver's guild was a huge building.

It was an amalgamation of tower-like structures put together, the paint on them scratched and faded as various flora seemed to grow on its surface. It seemed as if every building in Orth was built so incredibly long ago, perhaps beginning to become like the ancient ruins that infested the confines of The Abyss.

Boryslav walked atop the bridge that connected the building with the rest of the town, staring upward as Taro stood beside him, Orla staying back at the house.

"Ah, it's been a while since I was last here..." Taro admitted before turning his head, "Let's get inside."

The Stalker nodded as the two of them walked forward, Taro opening a large set of wooden doors. The first thing Boryslav had noticed was just how spacious the interior was. The ceiling extended upward, and kept extending toward a stained glass roof that let in natural light from the outside. Gondolas hung from above, clearly for decoration rather then operability as they idly hung from chains. Boryslav quickly noted the lack of people, the only sign of life being a tired-looking attendant stood at the desk.

"Alright, let me handle this." Taro whispered before walking forward, "Logi."

The attendant turned his head toward the old man before his eyes widened. "T-Taro?!"

Taro walked up to the front desk, "Get me a recommendation slip and a commission paper."

"R-Right away." Logi then paused, looking toward Boryslav. "Wait... who's tha-?"

"Did I stutter?" Taro asked, "Go and get those forms!"

Boryslav couldn't help but feel a small bit of amusement rise up, not out of joy for the attendant's treatment but rather coming to a comedic realization. The old man must have been a real hardass in his prime... almost reminding Boryslav of his instructor back when he was training for the VDV.

Taro turned toward him, "And now we wait."

The Stalker felt a question arise. "This is your HQ, Dah?"

"Yes." Taro confirmed.

Boryslav looked around, "It feels like I am in a crypt. Where is everyone?"

"Outside. Either in The Abyss, the appraisal house, or the tavern. The Guild HQ is really for storing important relics, or in your case, applying for a Delver license." Taro explained. Boryslav nodded in understanding as Logi returned, two pieces of paper in his hands. Taro took it, grabbing a quill from the table as he quickly filled it out. He then handed the paper to Boryslav, "I did the forms, now it just needs your signature."

Boryslav nodded, grabbing the quill before signing his name at the bottom.

Taro rolled the paper up, "And it's done." The old man turned toward Logi, handing the attendant the form. "Make sure Boryslav here leaves with a Bell."

Boryslav stared at the small golden jingle bell in his hand, Taro standing next to him as they stood next to the side of a running stream.

"... So I am supposed to wear this around my neck?"

Taro nodded, "Until you've made your first delve, you're obliged to wear it while studying..." Taro then paused, "But admittedly, it's usually little kids that wear bells... not fully grown adults."

Boryslav slipped it on, letting it hang from his neck before pausing for a moment.

"How does it feel?" Taro asked.

The Stalker paused, holding it up. "I feel like a damn farm animal."

Taro laughed, hearty and raucous. "Ha! That's the spirit! Don't worry, you can get that changed to a red whistle once you make your first delve."

"..." Boryslav chuckled, "I know I did not tell you this before, but when I popped up in your land, it was in the first layer of The Abyss."

"So you've been down there?" Taro asked.

Boryslav silently took out his PDA, Taro looking at the device. "This another one of your otherworldly gadge-?" before the old man's eyes widened, Boryslav showing him a picture of a shot up Crimson Splitjaw. "This picture... i-it's so clear. And that's a Crimson Splitjaw! You killed it?!"

"Juvenile. But yes, I did what I had to do."

"Well, I'll be- that's not something a lot of Delvers can accomplish."

Boryslav nodded before changing the subject, "So what happens now?"

"You may have traversed the first layer, and downed a Splitkaw, but you still need training. Officially, you're now a novice." Taro produced something from his leather pouch, a dusty and faded notebook. "Here."

The Stalker took it, opening it to reveal page after page of illustrations and Orth Rune, depicting various creatures of The Abyss. "What is this? A guide?"

"My personal notes." Taro explained, "The truth is, the most valuable thing a Delver could have when going down into The Abyss is information. The nation of Orth is very strict on what can be published about The Abyss. Maps, bestiaries, and catalogs are all regulated to lessen the chance of illegal Delvers utilizing them. So every Delver worth his or her salt at least documents what they see for their own personal Delves."

Boryslav stared at the book for a moment before closing it. It must have been easier to keep information locked about The Abyss compared to The Zone. Possibly because all info was limited to paper rather than having the ability to be sent through a wide variety of media, much like his PDA just now.

"That's your goal. Learn Orth Rune, memorize what's in this book. All that I've recorded goes all the way down to the fifth layer itself!"

"Got it." Boryslav said, "Where can I start learning Rune?"

"Belchero orphanage. It may be an orphanage, but it also acts as a school for Bell ranks. They'll definitely give lessons there." Taro finished.

Boryslav paused, "... Oh."

Jiruo calmly watched as the children went about their chores, hands crossed and a stern look on his face.

There was no Delving scheduled for today, so the current tasks were cleaning the orphanage, and afterwords, attend class. He scanned the place before a knock was heard on the door, the young man raising an eye as he walked up to the door and opened it.

A familiar figure that he had encountered yesterday stood there.

"Привіт." Mr. Shevchenko waved.

"You? What are you-?" Jiruo then noticed another figure standing next to the foreigner, his eyes widening. "Taro?"

Jiruo knew the elderly man as a black whistle of great renown. Which begged the question... why exactly was he with the foreigner that had randomly shown up at the orphanage last night?

And then he noticed another fact.

The foreigner was wearing a Bell.

"This is Boryslav." Taro simply said, "He'll be studying Orth Rune here." The old Delver then turned his head toward Boryslav, "And with that, I'm off. Good luck, Worn."

"And you too, Старик."

Taro chuckled, "I don't even know what that means." before walking off, leaving Jiruo and Boryslav alone. A few seconds passed, Boryslav scratching the back of his shaved head.

"So... where do I begin learning?"

For Jiruo, the past two days had been somewhat of an enigma. First, Shiggy and Nat had found what would be considered third-grade relics from the first layer, which should have been extremely rare. He had seen Belchero with a blush on her face (something which he did not think possible), and the foreigner he had seen off yesterday had shown up at the orphanage doorstep again, now a Bell rank...

Jiruo took a moment to respond.

"Right this way..."

"Whattya think we're gonna learn today?!" Riko asked with a hint of excitement as she put the broom back into the closet.

"It's Rune read class..." Shiggy answered, "I don't think it's going to have anything to do with creature study this time."

"Aww!" Riko bemoaned, Nat laughing.

"Pfft, you know Leader told us yesterday that it would be Rune read class, right?" The trio walked through the doorway, "You sure forgot about that qu-"

They both bumped into Shiggy, the boy had stopped in front of them as Riko let out a yeep.

"Hey, what's the big id-" Nat spoke with a hint of outrage before noticing what Shiggy was looking at.

Boryslav.

The Stalker was sitting at the bottom row of the wall desks, no longer wearing his green suit but instead a blue and white striped undershirt. A Bell hung around his neck, even though none of the kids had ever seen an adult wear one before. He casually leaned back against the chair before turning his head to the trio, giving a short wave.

"Ah, Привіт, Little Ones." He then looked above him. "Weird set up you have here. I do not believe I have ever seen desks mounted on a wall before..."

Needless to say, their jaws dropped.

DONE. Not as long as the last chapter, but I figured I would update Created by Zone with a chapter before updating my other story, Skiajati. This story is going to go on an interesting route, because as I said before, this takes place many, many months before the main events of the show. I won't spoil too much about the next chapter, but I'll just straight up tell that Worn is a quick learner...

I'm also genuinely surprised at how many people have picked up on this story. To tell you the truth, I knew the lack of stories from both fandoms would mean that traffic of views would be low, but from what I've seen so far, those that have read this story have taken an immense liking to it... so thank you for reading Created By Zone and enjoying my story.

P.S. Sorry for any spelling mistakes.